


have a wonderful life, ryan bergara

by reina_inefable



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, Shane being secretive and also an idiot, Sort Of, idk what to tag this as??, ryan also being an idiot, shipping ports, spy AU, this was supposed to be under 1k words but I went a little over that oops, uhhhhhhhhhhhh its dark, you know the usual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-22
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-05-10 07:40:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14732771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reina_inefable/pseuds/reina_inefable
Summary: A less than fortunate meeting.Or, Shane does some mildly illegal things and Ryan is not a spy.





	have a wonderful life, ryan bergara

**Author's Note:**

> me? disappearing for 5 years from my other fic and reappearing with this fuckery? yea thats right
> 
> got this idea watching tv w my 8yro sister and I think that says a lot about the quality of my writing
> 
> also this isn't necessarily shippy but you can interpret it however you want, I don't mind :^)))

Three distinct gunshots broke through the dead quiet of the night. Sirens followed closely behind.

The wind picked up, the night instantly seemed several degrees colder, and the ships on the dock rocked against each other like wind chimes. Ryan frowned, craning his neck back over his shoulder.

In truth, he had no business to be loitering around in a shipping port at half-past 11:00PM on a weekday. He had read a dumb article in a magazine that listed taking walks at night as a calming activity, and like the idiot he was, he did exactly that. As his mind wandered, his body did, too. His feet strayed from the city, and soon he found himself barefoot, his legs hanging over the edge of the wooden dock, his hands placed behind him for support.

Ryan’s heart beat fast as he suddenly became more than aware of his surroundings, the sirens steadily growing louder. He flinched as another gunshot rang out, this time much closer than the last. It echoed against the mountains of storage boxes. 

This was not exactly his idea of calming.

Ryan forced himself to stand, his legs having gone numb, and bent over to pick up his shoes. He scrambled to put them on, the only thing going through his mind being, _I need to get out of here now._

Just then, there was a loud _thump._ Ryan’s head snapped back at the source of the sound. A dark figure stood atop a storage container, hunched over. Looking fairly comical with one shoe in hand and the other untied on his foot, Ryan scampered behind another container. He peeked out curiously from his spot, hastily tying on his sneakers.

The figure —most likely a man, judging from the shape of his body— straightened up and glanced back. He neared the edge and jumped down to the ground, his coat and scarf flapping behind him like a flag. He landed almost soundlessly. 

The police sirens were louder than before. Swiftly, the man pressed his back against the storage container, just barely evading the beam of light that momentarily illuminated the dock, then faded away with the sirens. 

Slowly, the stranger extracted himself from his spot and furtively approached the water. Ryan observed, transfixed, as he withdrew a cream-colored folder from the inside pockets of his black coat. One paper almost escaped his grip, but he reflexively snatched it back before it could stray far from his reach. 

The man fiddled with a small object in his hand, holding the folder in the other. 

“C’mon, c’mon,” he hissed, “Work, goddamnit!” 

He shook the object fiercely. Finally giving up on it, he flung it into the ocean. The man quickly produced another object, this time something that appeared to be a matchbox.

In the dim light, Ryan could scarcely see what the man was doing, as he was angled in a way that made it hard to discern his actions, but he had a fairly good idea of what he intended to do.

Ryan hid behind the container. He considered leaving just then, considered pretending he hadn't seen anything. He knew damn well he could get in trouble. But for _what_ , exactly? He couldn’t get arrested for simply loitering in a shipping port. Nor could he get arrested for being a witness to a potentially illegal activity, right? Maybe not arrested, but at least he’d get a nasty fine, if they caught him.

 _If_.

In the end, his curiosity got the better of him, and he discreetly poked his head out to watch.

The stranger was tall, almost absurdly so, and slender. Though Ryan couldn't make out his face from the distance, something about the man just screamed _danger._

The scraping sound of a match being struck reached his ears. The man turned just enough for Ryan to see him light the folder with the match’s fire. He dropped the match and stepped on it.

As the fire gently consumed the papers, the soft wind carried the charred ashes away like snow. A warm, golden glow illustrated the stranger’s face while he watched the documents disintegrate. He had blonde hair and pointed features, with a strong nose. Eyebrows set in a deep frown adorned eyes like daggers, and his lips were pursed in a tight line with that same tension. The flames ate up the last corners of the folder, and the man’s face visibly relaxed.

Soon enough, the spectacle was over, and Ryan forced himself to look away and hide before he was seen. But clearly, he wasn’t quick enough, because he heard the stranger say, “What the fuck—“

Ryan swallowed. He tried to move, but his body wasn't responding. He was glued to the ground, as if paralyzed by fear or dread. His stomach plummeted through the earth. 

As the man rounded the corner of the storage container, Ryan squeezed his eyes shut and raised up his hands defensively. He braced himself for anything.

Nothing.

Tentatively, he opened his eyes and inhaled sharply, having been meet with the receiving end of a gun.

"Don't shoot!" he yelped. His heart was pounding in his chest, his breathing turning shallow.

His hands shook at the side of his head. 

"You a fuckin' spy?" asked the man.

"A what? No!" 

" _Don't lie to me_." He narrowed his eyes. The gun made a terrifying _click_.

"I swear!" Ryan shook his head vigorously, eyes wide.

The man scowled. "Get up and empty your pockets."

Ryan did as instructed, dumping out of his pockets only a chewed pen, an old receipt, a pack of gum, and a few crumpled bills. Still aiming at him, the man inspected the contents. Seemingly unsatisfied, he ordered, “Turn around. Against the wall."

The stranger patted him down.  Having gained some confidence as the gun was no longer inches away from his head, Ryan breathed deeply. "I'm not a spy."

"What are you doing here, then?"

He swallowed. ”Would you believe me if I said I was taking a walk?"

The man scoffed. "You must think I'm fucking stupid," he growled. "May I remind you I'm the one with the gun here."

"Of course," Ryan mumbled to himself. He turned to meet his gaze, and like a cold finger had traced his body, the hairs on his arms and neck stood on edge. They remained like that for what felt like forever.

Eventually, the man's glare softened into something much less frightening, and, admittedly, much more handsome. "You're... You're telling the truth."

Ryan silently exhaled in relief. 

"Shit," he said, bringing his hand up to his forehead. "Jesus— I'm so sorry, what's— what's your name?"

"Ryan."

"Ryan what?" 

"Ryan Bergara." 

The man searched his face. "You're telling the truth about that, too." He cleared his throat. "Right, uh, Ryan. I'm so sorry, I- I thought you were—" 

"A spy? Yeah, I got that," Ryan said dryly. "What were you doing?"

"I... " The man sighed. "I can't tell you that."

"Why were you running from the police?"

"Or that."

"Who are you?"

"Or that." The stranger checked his watch. "Shit, I'm late!" He stuffed his gun in his coat pocket and leaned over to pick up Ryan's belongings and hand them to him.

"Ryan, it's been a pleasure, and I’d love to keep talking. But I have to go," he said hurriedly. He added seriously, "You never met me." Having made that clear, he darted away.

"Wait!" Ryan called out. "The least you could do was tell me your name, asshole!"

The stranger looked back. "You can call me Shane! Have a wonderful life, Ryan Bergara!"

And with that, Shane disappeared, leaving Ryan completely perplexed and shaken up.

He wondered if they'd ever meet again.

**Author's Note:**

> idk wtf that was but lmk what yall think!!!!!! I was thinking of doing a part 2 from shanes pov but only if yall want it lmao
> 
> If you find any mistakes, please let me know! you can find me on Tumblr if you want @apatheticallyromantic
> 
> -nani


End file.
